Making sense of what has transpired is like
Counting drops of liquid in a cup
Life comes and goes, ebbs and flows
I ascribe meaning on top of all of it
And these stories often hinder my truth
What is it I see when I open my eyes?
What is it I see when I close them?
Closing them is key
Scary as it may be
Sitting with the muck I see myself
an actor with roles in stories and events
makeup and costumes and automatic lines
retorts and expressions memorized, leading me
to more of the same, an endless game
Staying with it, I ride the breath to
a new horizon where True Nature rests
and I see I can come home to myself
Whenever I wish, right here in this
breath and in this moment
I make a choice to put down attachments
and allow ideas and limiting beliefs to rest
no, this is not some sort of existential test
rather, a lovely invitation to be lovely
and to see the lovely and in the lovely
Scanning the senses with gleeful curiosity
I hear birds chatter and find melody that delights
I see the clouds' quick moves and feel hopefulness for change
I feel wind like a cosmic breath and know I am connected
I smell trees nutty freshness and sense timeless rooting
I taste the fruit with new lips and miracles abound
There is so much more, always happening
I can continue to sink deeper into all of it
I will commit to understanding beyond
that which my intellect can have power over
So that I may evolve and grow new wisdom
And peace and gratitude will flow creating
space for power between, uplifting the unseen
I will sit in solitude and know
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